


It's Just a Dance

by AmeliaOdair



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaOdair/pseuds/AmeliaOdair
Summary: Katniss has had a crush on Peeta Mellark for such a long time.  After finally agreeing to attend the Winter Dance with her best friend Madge, in celebration of their making it past reaping age.  After dreaming and fantasizing about the baker's son for so long, will Katniss' dream finally become a reality?
Relationships: Gale Hawthorne/Madge Undersee, Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48
Collections: The Hunger Games 2020 Season of Hope Holiday Gift Exchange





	It's Just a Dance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [endlessnightlock (Endlessnightlock)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnightlock/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Midwinter Night's Dream](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2818733) by [MockingJayFlyingFree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MockingJayFlyingFree/pseuds/MockingJayFlyingFree). 



> This was written for The Hunger Games 2020 Seasons of Hope Gift Exchange based loosely on "A Midwinter Night's Dream" by Mockingjayflyingfree.

**It’s just a dance**

_“Katniss, I need to taste you, can I taste you? Will you let me?” My body is scorching from desire and seems to have evaporated my entire vocabulary along with it. I feel naked; the way Peeta seems to be peering into my soul. I am helpless to do anything but nod my head. Peeta gently tugs on the bottom of my shirt and slowly peels off my first layer, exposing my bare skin to the frigid temperatures. He has prepared a romantic picnic for us outside in the woods; knowing it’s my favorite place in the world. He scoots us closer to the cackling, low burning fire and begins trailing wet kisses down my neck, along my collar bone and across my chest until he reaches my breast. With one breast cupped firmly in each hand he begins peppering kisses along my flesh and then just stops. Staring._

_What is he staring at? Are they too small? Ugly? I know I am not the prettiest girl in Twelve, I am too skinny and lack the curves most other girls have, but—_

_“My god Katniss, you are so perfect. So beautiful and so intoxicatingly perfect.” Having sensed my anxiety, he immediately rectifies the situation by flicking his tongue over the hardened pebble of my nipple, sending a surge of electricity radiating to my core._

_“Peeta, oh Peeta, I need—”_

_“What do you need Katniss?” He asks, hovering over me and inching his way up to my ear._

_I don’t know what I need, or maybe I do and just don’t know how to say it. I tug on the hem of his shirt and then slip it over his head. For starters, I need to feel his skin against mine and the fabric of his shirt is too much of a barrier between us._

_We are now both naked from the waist up and the feeling of his warm body against mine is more than I could have ever imagined. It is ecstasy in the most sensual of ways. I mimic his actions and begin trailing kisses against his neck, making my way to his jaw as I massage the firm muscles across his broad chest._

_“Can I taste you Katniss? I need— I need to taste you; please say you’ll allow it.” Peeta’s raspy voice moans into my ear._

_I have only ever overheard some of the girls talking at school, describing their sexual experiences in intricate detail. I have never done this before in my life, I suppose that makes me an amateur. Once again, my words fail me; but then again, words have never been my forte. I supply Peeta with my consent by a slight nod of my head. He lowers his body and begins to unbutton my jeans, shimmying my pants off, my panties going with them. He spreads my legs, situating himself in-between them and just stares for a moment._

_“My god you are so fucking perfect.” For some reason hearing Peeta curse sends my insides twisting, and I need so badly for him to touch me. Down there. Peeta parts my folds with his fingers and inches his face closer to my center._

_What is he about to— He doesn’t mean to taste me . . . down there— “OH MY GOD!” I scream out, unable to quell the insatiable pleasure when Peeta’s tongue glides across that little bundle of nerves that sends me squirming in every which way._

"Katniss, hello, earth to Katniss." Suddenly, I am no longer naked in the woods with Peeta, but sitting at Madge's vanity. I look in the mirror to see Madge standing behind me. She places the curling iron down, having just finished curling the final strands of my hair as she gets me ready for the dance tonight.

"Yeah, okay. Sorry, what did you say?"

"Did you even hear a word I said? Where did you just go?" I shake my head to rid the invasive thoughts of Peeta Mellark as she turns her back to me, fumbling in her jewelry box.

I have a feeling I know what she is about to grab and decide to warn her beforehand. “Margaret Jane Undersee, if you so much as come a single step closer to me with that . . . that _thing,_ I swear to the high heavens I will ring your neck. And then I will laugh at you, and then ring your neck one more time.” I threaten my best friend with a scowl, trying with all my might to keep a straight face.

Madge has been my best friend for . . . I'm actually not sure how long we’ve been friends, but I do know it's been a long time. I think we were friends before I even realized it. Our teachers would pair us up for school assignments and we just seemed to gravitate to each other during lunch until one day, Madge asked me to teach her how to braid her hair. Ever since then, we have pretty much been inseparable. With that being said, Madge knows I would never _actually_ hurt her. However, as my best friend she is keenly aware how I loathe anything pink and frilly.

“Come on Katniss, it’s just a hair pin. It’ll look pretty in your hair. Pleeeeaase! You promised I could fix you up tonight.” Madge whines in her sing song voice, giving me those big, sad puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, whatever.” I concede, glancing briefly into the full-length mirror in front of me. I don’t actually look nearly as despicable as I thought I might since I gave Madge free reign to “dress me up.” She has placed me in a simple, elegant, yet modest black dress. It reveals no cleavage and when I stand up, it reaches just above my knees. The jagged sleeves barely graze my elbows, and she has supplied me with a simple black pair of flats with just a tiny bit of heel. She must know I would trip and fall flat on my face if she even attempted to put me in anything more.

“Why did I let you talk me into this anyway?” I grumble as she secures the mockingjay pin into my hair, pulling it over to one side to keep my bangs from my eyes. It’s not the bright pink flower clip I thought she was going for; this clip is beautiful, elegant, and simple. It is the golden mockingjay clip that once belonged to her aunt. Her aunt who died in the Quell with Victor Haymitch Abernathy.

Once the clip is securely in my hair, she looks me up and down, giving me an approving look. “You know why.” _Why did I even ask_? I think to myself, groaning as I feel the blush rise to my cheeks.

“Whatever, I . . . I don’t care about that. About him. I mean, never mind. Are you ready?” I ask her, quickly changing the subject and embarrassed from stumbling over my words.

Madge gives me an all to knowing look before she stands up and leans over my head to look at herself in the mirror, touching up her pink lip gloss and twisting her lips together to spread it out evenly.

“You want some?” She asks me, and I think she’s serious.

I give her another scowl and roll my eyes. She smiles, ignoring my scowl; energetic and bouncy as always. I never have been able to understand how a person can _always_ be so happy . . . and . . . _perky._ However, tonight she seems to have an extra spring in her step, and I wonder what’s got her in such a good mood.

“Come on Katniss, it’s a night to celebrate! We’re safe! No more reapings, EVER.” Being an only child, she doesn’t understand that I do not consider myself “safe” until Prim hits the magic number eighteen. But even if Prim’s name is called, I am helpless to save her, to volunteer for her. The only thing I have any control over is making sure she doesn’t take out any tesserae, so that her name is in that damn bowl as few times as possible.

Madge and I leave her room, grabbing our coats on our way out the door. “BYE DADDY!” Madge yells just as the door slams behind us. Outside, the snow is falling, barely, but it is still falling. It’s really beautiful seeing the snow flurries, and even more so against the white twinkling lights in town. I’m certain the power will be cut before the night is over, but for now I allow myself to enjoy the beautiful lights. 

I can see the community center from outside of Madge’s house, and how someone has strung up white twinkling lights outside of the building. We make our way to the community center where the winter festival is being held. They call it the winter festival, but it is nothing more than everyone; town and seam gathering in a giant room, getting drunk and dancing the night away. A few guys from the seam with their fiddles and other weird instruments will be playing music for everyone to dance to.

Madge hands me her flask that we have been sipping from for the past few hours. “It’ll help you warm up.” She says, smiling at me. For some reason, I don’t think she’s talking about warming up from the cold.

Why is Peeta Mellark invading my every thought as of lately? We have barely ever held even a single conversation. Face to face that is. We have been dancing around each other, flirting with our eyes and passing notes to each other for the last year. But other than that; nothing.

"Are you going to keep your promise to Peeta?" Madge asks me as I hand her the flask back. A few weeks ago, I went to the bakery to do my usual round of trading and Peeta discreetly slipped a note into my hands. I didn’t even notice it until I was almost home, which I am actually thankful for. Had he hand delivered it to me, I would have been too chicken to read it in front of him.

“I never made any promise, so it would be hard to keep it.”

It took me a few minutes to notice the folded-up piece of paper in my hand, and it nearly burned a hole in my pocket all the way home. Once I got home, I ran into the bathroom, only allowing myself to read it behind a locked door. It was sweet. Simple. And for some reason, I longed for more. All it said was "Katniss, save me a dance."

I ran straight to Madge's house, confused as to what the letter meant. Ever since then I have been incapable at keeping images of Peeta from invading my mind, and my "fantasies" only continue to escalate.

“Oh, come on! You should give him a chance, he’s a really sweet guy.”

“Madge . . . I have . . . more important things in life than . . . boys.”

“No one is telling you to stop doing those important things, but sometimes, having someone to share those things with—”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

I am relieved when we reach the community center and the topic of Peeta Mellark has been dropped. I can hear the music playing from outside and find myself bouncing to the beat. If there is one thing we know how to do in Twelve, it is dancing and having a good time. As soon as I enter the building, I am blown away by the heat. “Why is it so warm in here?” I scream over the music to Madge, removing my coat, which is actually a loaner from Madge and throw it over my arm, wondering if I’m going to have to carry it all night.

“Daddy rented space heaters. Give me your jacket, I’ll throw it in the pile with mine.” I hand it to her, worried for a moment that someone might steal it. Well, it’s hers anyway. I left mine at her house. She insisted I wear one of hers, claiming that my father’s hunting jacket did not “go” with my dress. I don’t have time to worry about what piece of clothing meshes well with another, my only goal is to stay warm in the frigid winter temperatures.

“Sup Catnip?” Gale walks over to me, his eyes glassy and I wonder if he’s already drunk. If not, then he is well on his way. Madge walks back over to me, her hands free of our winter gear and I notice the hypnotic look she shares with Gale. Their eyes lock for a moment, oblivious to my presence and I feel as if I am intruding on a very private conversation. “Hey Madge, I uh, haven’t seen you around.” Even in the darkness of the room, I can see the blush rise on Madge’s cheeks.

“I’ve been . . . busy.” She says awkwardly as she squirms in place. No, she hasn’t, she’s been with me almost constantly for the last two weeks. What is going on here, what aren't they telling me? What do I not know? Madge shakes her head, severing the connection between her and Gale and grabs my hands. “Come on Katniss, let's dance!” She pulls me on the dance floor, turning her flask up again and then hands it to me.

We casually dance together, taking turns with her flask of white liquor that somehow taste peachy. Not “peachy” like good, but “peachy” like actual peaches.

“So, what’s up with you and Gale?” I yell to her over the music.

“What do you mean?” She narrows her eyes, giving me a quizzical stare. So, that is her plan; she’s going to play dumb.

“Don’t give me that, I saw the way you two were ogling each other.”

Madge blushes and stops dancing. I follow suite and we head over to the refreshment stand to get some water. “I um, I mean, I’ve had a crush on him for the longest time—” Madge turns her cup of water up and chugs the entire contents until it’s bone dry. I’ve known about her crush on Gale since we were little, but I always thought it was _just a crush._ Apparently not. “—but we sorta . . . um . . . made out a few weeks ago. I was going to tell you, I swear— I’m just . . . It’s—”

“It’s okay Madge. Did you think I would be mad? There’s never been anything between me and Gale and there never will be.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. Gale and I are just friends.”

“You might feel that way, but Gale . . .”

“Madge, Gale is like . . . like my brother.”

“Well, anyway, it doesn’t really matter because we’re just having fun. It’s nothing serious.” Madge explains hesitantly, causing me to question her statement. Perhaps she is trying to convince herself that she’s just having fun with Gale, but her body language tells a different story.

“Don’t look now, but Mr. Blue Eyes can’t take his eyes off you!” She leans into my ear to whisper as the music gets louder, but it comes out more of a scream. Madge wobbles back in place and I grab her hands to keep her from falling. Judging by how unsteady she is, I wonder how much she actually has had to drink tonight?

Mr. Blue Eyes, who is Madge— Oh. Madge nudges my chin to turn my head in the direction of the boy she speaks of. Our eyes lock for a moment, and it is as if time stands still. I no longer hear the music and Madge is no longer standing next to me. And then Peeta’s brother stumbles into him, breaking our gaze.

* * *

**| Peeta |**

“Dammit Rye, what the hell!” I manage to dodge the sloshing liquid in his cup from spilling on me just in time. But at what cost? We had a moment, our eyes locked for that one second and I think she saw me. I really think she was looking _at_ me. But then stupid Rye had to bump into me and almost spilled his drink all over me. Silently, I thank my speedy reflexes, no thanks to mother.

I have made myself crazy over the last few weeks wondering if she even read my note or if she just balled it up and threw it in the trash the second she got home. She hasn’t come back to the bakery since that day, hence, leaving me in the dark.

“Sorry Peet, I was, wait, who were you looking at?” He looks in the general direction I was to see who it is.

“Oh, Everdeen. Peeta, grow some balls and go talk to her. You guys have been giving each other googly eyes for too damn long!” Rye says and then one of his friends, Derek joins in on our conversation.

“Who’s Peeta got his eye on tonight? You finally gonna get lucky littlest Mellark?” Derek jokes with me like he always does, knowing I have never had well, you know. Narrowing my eyes, I send him a vicious scowl, yet, unable to conceal the blush from my cheeks.

“I don’t have my eye on anyone Derek. Get over yourself.”

“It’s too cold for the slag heap, snow’s coming down pretty hard now. But you can take her in the back room—”

“I am not taking _anyone_ in that filthy back room.” _Least of all Katniss_ , I say that bit to myself. She deserves so much better than that. And, if I found out anyone even dared to . . . no. The thought of someone disrespecting her that way, or in any way sends a rage coursing through me I never knew existed.

“Derek, Peeta’s been in love with Everdeen since he was like six or seven years old. I’ve tried to get him to look at someone else, but he’s got his heart set on her.” Five years old, but who’s counting?

“Everdeen, who’s that?” Derek asks curiously.

“Scrawny little thing from the seam, she’s got grey eyes and brown hair, she has a permanent scowl painted on her face, wears her hair in that braid over her shoulder all the time. Oh, and she’s always hanging out with Grumpy Hawthorne.” Rye explains Katniss to his friend. Not exactly how I would have explained her, but I suppose to someone who doesn’t know her, he’s just about nailed it.

“Oh, aren’t they like . . . “together” or something?” Derek asks, using finger air quotes when he says ‘together.’

“No, they’re just friends.” I inform him.

“Yeah right. I’ve seen Hawthorne at the slag heap with more girls than anyone in Twelve. I doubt he understands the term ‘just friends.” Derek alludes. Derek is right about one thing, Gale is most certainly known as the “love em’ and leave em’ kind of guy”, but I know that Katniss would never stoop to that level. She has too much respect for herself to allow _anyone_ take her at the slag heap.

“Shut up Derek.” Is all I say, I don’t have to defend anything to him. He’s wasted, he won’t remember our conversation in fifteen minutes anyway.

“All that time in the woods they spend together, come on Peet, what do you think they’re doing out there? Specially in the winter when it’s so cold, gotta stay warm somehow.” The more he speaks the more my blood begins to boil. If I don’t remove myself from his presence soon, I might end up doing something stupid.

“Anyway, them seam girls are a bit too scrawny for my liking, I like my women with a few more curves, but hey, if that’s what floats your boat, then by all means.” Like punch him in the face. I take a deep breath before walking away, rolling my eyes at Rye. I find a quiet corner to hide in and discreetly watch Katniss dancing with Madge from the sidelines as I try to get up the courage to approach her. Only then do I realize I’m still holding my red plastic cup in my hand. My liquid courage. I turn the cup up and down the contents when the music suddenly changes.

A woman with dark hair and grey eyes walks onto the slightly raised stage, smiling in her shiny, yet worn blue winter dress. The tempo of the music gradually transforms into a slower rhythm. I watch as she whispers something into one of the fiddler’s ears and then holds the microphone up to her mouth.

“Let’s give it up for the band!” She shouts, clapping her hands with the mic still in her hand and everyone follows suit. “It’s been seven years to the day since I lost my Brian. I hope ya’ll don’t mind if I sing a song in remembrance of him and all the other brave men we lost that day.” She says, catching everyone’s attention. Everyone goes silent, giving her their full attention. I do the math in my head and think she must have lost her husband in the same accident that took Katniss’ dad from her.

The song she sings is an old love song that everyone knows. Both seam and town. When she begins her solo, everyone is enraptured by her words, almost as if they are hypnotized by the melody of her voice. Her voice is deep and a bit raspy, but still beautiful, all the same.

**_My heart is an ocean; It's calling to you_ **

****

**_When I breathe in your essence; I've never felt more true_ **

****

**_Your arms wrap around me; and I welcome your embrace_ **

****

**_When your lips touch mine; it's such a heavenly taste_ **

By the second verse, everyone is swaying to the beat and either humming or singing along with her. But then, one voice in the crowd stands out from all the others and I instantly know who it belongs to without even seeing her face.

Katniss. I would know her voice anywhere. I am almost certain I could be struck deaf and blind and I would still somehow know it was her.

Everyone else must notice too, because the entire crowd has now muted their own voices to hear hers. Even the singer. Everyone’s eyes are locked on Katniss as she sings the song with her eyes closed. I don’t think she realizes that everyone has gone silent just to hear her sing. Only when the song is over does she become aware that she is the only one left singing because her body tenses and she apprehensively opens her eyes, one at a time. With the back of her arm, she uses her sleeve to dry the wetness from her face. And then it hits her, all the attention is focused on her, sending her running for the hills.

“Damn, Everdeen’s got some pipes! Did you know she could sing like that?” Rye appears at my side with another red plastic cup in his hands. If he doesn’t slow down, he is going to be shit faced before the night is over. But he is the least of my worries. Almost reflexively, I spin on my heels, my drink landing on the floor as I hightail it out of the community center to chase her.

* * *

**| Katniss |**

I recognized Tasha immediately. Brian, her husband was a friend of my father's and they worked alongside each other in the mines. Sometimes Brian and Tasha would come over for dinner, that’s how close he and my father were. After the _accident,_ I never saw Tasha anymore. Who am I kidding, I never saw my own mother anymore. Brian and my dad, they were together that day; _THE_ day. When Tasha begins her song, a majority of the crowd begins to hum along, and then people begin to sing the words with her. Inadvertently, I follow in line with the rest of them, humming the tune alongside her without even realizing it.

**_You've been gone too long, my heart aches so deep_ **

****

**_Your arms wrapped around me; each night in my sleep_ **

****

**_If I could bottle you up, forever you would stay_ **

****

**_I could see you, hold you; every single day_ **

Closing my eyes and swaying to the melody, memories invade my mind of singing this song with my father. He told me stories of singing it to her in an attempt to “woo her”. When Prim was a baby, Dad and I would sing it to both mother and Prim. Mother once told me that Dad’s voice had the ability to melt her knees, that’s how powerful it was. 

My heart takes over and my mouth seems to have a mind of its own as I get lost in my own memories.

**_I cry and I cry an ocean of tears; because not a day passes by that you don't cross my mind_ **

****

**_Because you took my heart with you, when you left me behind._ **

**_I wish I could see you_ **

****

**_I wish I could hold you_ **

****

**_I wish I could breathe you in so deep_ **

****

**_I wish I could kiss you_ **

****

**_I wish I could hug you_ **

****

**_I wish that you were always and forever, mine to keep_ **

****

Only when the song is over do I realize I am the only one left singing. Apprehensively, I squint one eye open at first, already feeling so many pairs of eyes on me. When my one eyes is open, it’s just as I suspected and so many people are staring at me. And then both eyes are open to see even more people staring back at me. Noticing my face is wet, I use the back of my arm to wipe it dry, hoping that no one else noticed it.

And then I run.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Why did I do that? What was I thinking? Oh my god. Everyone saw me. **_HE_** saw me. Everyone heard me. **_HE_** heard me. **_Peeta_**. I think I’m going to be sick.” I repeat to myself over and over as I run through the double doors and hide behind the side of the building.

I am not alone for a minute before I hear his gentle voice calling out to me.

“Katniss, are you okay?” Of all the people here tonight, why is he the one to come out here? Did he come out here to laugh at me? His voice doesn’t sound taunting. In fact, he sounds genuine. Concerned even. I lean my elbows into the banister and push my eyes into my palms until I’m seeing stars. I can feel the light tingling sensation that must be snowflakes falling against my arms.

“I’m fine, you don’t have to come out here.” _‘Please go away, please go away.’_ I think to myself, not wanting him to see me like this.

For a moment, everything is silent, and I think maybe he listened, which sends a huge wave of disappointment rushing through me. I feel tears prickling the back of my eyelids from the thought that he’s left me out here all alone. But I told him to go, so that doesn’t make any sense. 

Suddenly, I feel something warm settle on top of my shoulders. I lift my head up and crane my neck, and there he is, standing right next to me, covering my shoulders with his jacket. His clear blue eyes looking into mine.

“It’s cold out here Katniss.” The snow is coming down harder, there is a thin layer of snow blanketing the top of his hair in the short time we’ve been out here.

“Catnip, you okay?” I turn my body completely around when I hear Gale’s deep voice. Madge is at his side, and I can’t help but notice their linked fingers. ‘Just having fun, yeah right.’ I think to myself, noticing how comfortable they are next to each other. She is not the only one lying to herself.

Scowling, I meet Gale’s eyes. “I’m fine. Go back inside.” Gale’s eyes flit to Peeta’s for a moment, giving him what looks like a disapproving glare.

“I’m fine!” I yell at him. “Go back inside, I just . . . I just need a minute.” I tell him more ferociously, shooting daggers at him.

“Are you sure?” He glances at Peeta again, looking irritated this time.

“Please. I’m fine, I promise. I’ll be back inside in a little bit.” I scowl once more at Gale and then meet Madge’s eyes, begging her to help me out.

“Let’s go Gale, Katniss can take care of herself.” Madge insists, finally coaxing Gale back inside. Gale nods at me and then he and Madge turn around to go back inside. Just before they reach the door, Gale turns back around.

“Yell if you need me.” He grumbles.

“I’m fine. Go!” I demand once more.

Turning my back to Peeta, I hide my face in my hands again, too embarrassed to face him. He doesn’t say anything, he just stands next to me. He doesn’t fill the silence with inane chatter, he’s just _here._ How does he know me so well to know that asinine conversation would only annoy me?

“You can go too, I’m fine.” I tell Peeta, not nearly as ornery as I was to Gale; and perhaps, a little hopeful that he might stay. Peeta takes a few steps over, positioning himself in front of me. Slowly, I lift my head up to meet Peeta’s eyes, and suddenly, I am no longer cold. Peeta has always had the ability to send a wave of heat coursing through my body, and tonight is no different.

“No.” He says, refusing to break our staring contest. “That was beautiful Katniss. It was . . . I . . . It was just beautiful. And I’m not leaving you out here all alone in the dark by yourself.”

“I can take care of myself.” I try to sound confident repeating Madge’s words. However, they don’t seem to have the same effect on Peeta as Madge’s did on Gale.

"Trust me, I am very well aware that you are more than capable of taking care of yourself. But Katniss, just because you _can_ , doesn’t mean you should _._ ” Peeta tells me, reaching over and grabbing my hands. His hands are so warm, how are they so warm when the temperatures are below freezing? I don’t pull my hands back; I simply allow him to warm them up.

* * *

**| Peeta |**

"I just . . . I can't go back in there; everyone is going to stare at me. I don't . . . I don't like it . . . the attention." Katniss explains nervously. I’m not sure why she didn’t pull back when I reached for her hands, it’s what I expected her to do. It must be because it’s so cold out here, otherwise, I’m certain she wouldn’t allow this physical contact.

"Everyone in there is pretty shit faced, they've probably already forgotten, and if you give them a few more minutes, they’ll have completely forgotten altogether." I give her a smile and hope it reassures her, but with the frigid temperatures and the random shivering I’m not quite sure how she perceived it. “But Katniss, why would you want to hide your voice? Everyone stopped to listen because it was amazing. Because your voice is so beautiful and enchanting, everyone was mesmerized by it. You shouldn’t hide talent like that. Even the singer—”

“Her name is Tasha. Her husband Brian; he and my dad were friends . . . before . . . you know.” So, I was right about Tasha’s husband and Katniss’ father being in the same accident together.

“Katniss, you have a gift. It would be a crime not to use it to your advantage.”

“How is a voice a gift?” She asks me, raising a brow curiously.

“People will listen to you; they _want_ to hear what you say. I have no doubt that you have the ability to move a nation.” It’s too dangerous to reveal anything more out here, I need to quit while I’m ahead. "I have an idea, come with me." I tell her, quickly changing the subject and pulling her along with me. She doesn’t resist, is it too much to hope for that she trusts me? Pushing those thoughts aside, I take her around the corner to the side entrance that only few know about. But then I remember what Rye told me about where this door leads to and decide I better warn her beforehand.

“Um, before we go inside, you should probably . . . you might want to close your eyes.” She narrows her eyes at me inquisitively, asking me to elaborate without saying a word.

"Um, usually people um . . . it's an empty room . . . that uh . . . people use for um . . . _privacy._ If you get what I mean. But— everyone will be more focused on whoever is in there that they won’t even notice you. We’ll be able to slip right in, completely unnoticed.”

She nods her head and grips even tighter onto my hand as I open the door and lead us inside. If I could close my eyes as well, I would certainly do it. Whoever is beyond the door and naked in the other room is not a sight I want to see tonight. Or ever.

"WHAT THE FUCK? GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE! PERVERT!" The couple begins screaming profanities at us as we squeeze through the narrow walkway.

* * *

**| Katniss |**

Only do I open my eyes when I hear the clicking of the door securely closing behind us.

"See, everyone is drunk, no one is looking at you. I seriously doubt they’ll remember a thing in the morning." He tells me, offering me a gentle smile.

But someone is looking at me. _Peeta_ is looking at me. His eyes sparkle with a kind of wonder, looking at me as if I hung the moon. A heat soars through me, making me feel warm and tingly inside, and something tells me it has nothing to do with coming in from the cold. Peeta releases my hand and shoves them into his pockets just as the tempo of the music begins to slow, causing the cold to return.

"Will you . . . I mean, can I . . . I mean, um, you wanna dance?" Peeta is so adorable standing in front of me with his hands tucked nervously into his pockets. His eyes dart to the ground as he timidly asks me to dance.

Blushing because I want nothing more than to dance with Peeta Mellark, I look into his eyes with a smile and nod. He removes his hands from his pockets and takes my hand again, and suddenly the warmth returns. Peeta leads us to the dance floor just as the fiddlers begin playing a slow song.

Peeta encircles his arms around my waist, resting his hands on my lower back and pulls me closer to him. We are standing close enough for me to feel the heat emanating from his body. We move with the music, swaying from side to side together. Between whatever I had in Madge’s flask to the drinks I consumed here, I am more than a little tipsy by now. But none of that seems to matter as Peeta and I become one with the music. 

For so long I have imagined being this close to him that I almost can’t believe it's actually happening. Peeta is so warm next to me; how is he so warm when we were just freezing outside only a few minutes ago?

I close the short distance between us and rest my head on his shoulder, my arms circling his neck. I close my eyes and breathe in his scent of cinnamon and bread and . . . and . . . man.

The day he threw me the bread was the day I began to notice him. I mean _really_ notice him. Of course, I noticed him the next day with the huge shiner his mother gave him. Guilt consumed me when I saw him walk into class that next day, knowing that he received it because of me. But that isn't what drew me toward him. Once I looked past his injured face, I saw something _more._ I noticed the look in his eyes when our eyes met, the way they sparkled in the light. I felt his eyes on me, but the moment I turned to him, he had already looked away.

For years we danced around the other, too shy to approach one another. It wasn't until the last two or three years when I would find myself lost in a daydream, Peeta Mellark the star of the show. I caught myself on many occasions wondering what his hands felt like. Wondering what they would feel like touching mine. I found myself wondering if his hands were soft, or would they feel rough against my own skin. But even more, what his lips would taste like against my own?

Peeta pulls back slightly to look into my eyes, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. The simple gesture is so intoxicating, I have to remind myself to breathe.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" I can barely hear his words due to the music blaring in my ear, or the chaotic chatters of everyone around us, but somehow, I know what he says. My cheeks flame with embarrassment and I look down to avert his gaze.

"I'm not beautiful." I tell him. His eyes narrow as he lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.

"You are _so_ beautiful Katniss. You are so amazing, the strongest, bravest and probably the most incredible person I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. You need to know that. I have waited my entire life for a moment like this and . . . and I don't know if I'll get the chance again, so I . . . I just . . ." He stutters, more nervous than I've ever seen him before. There are droplets of sweat beading on his brow and his hand tremors nervously. He lifts my chin again, closing the distance between us and places a kiss against my lips.

Electricity surges through me, all the way to my fingertips when our lips meet. The kiss is light and sensual at first. He brushes his lips against mine, pausing for a moment. He doesn’t dive in for more like I would expect him to. He is giving me time to run away, how does he know me so well? When it becomes clear that I have no intentions of fleeing, he begins to lightly suck on my bottom lip. I lock my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.

Kissing Peeta is nothing and everything I had always hoped for. No, it's more. I find my stomach churning, twisting in knots when he plunges his tongue into my mouth. I want more, I need more.

Out of nowhere, someone bumps into us, severing our connection. It’s Madge who crashes into us, breaking us apart as she stumbles onto the floor by my feet. She looks up at me, her face white as a ghost, looking sickly and pale.

"Katniss. I think —" Peeta helps her to her feet and she wraps her arms around my neck.

"Oh Katniss! I love you so much, did you know that? Did you know that you are my bestest friend in this whole, whole entire district? No, actually, in the whole entire world!" She trills, letting me know without a doubt that Madge is off her rockers, past the point of wasted; drunk.

* * *

**| Peeta |**

I try my best to hide my frustration from Madge’s interruption and immediately help her off the floor. I just kissed Katniss. Katniss. The girl I've loved nearly my entire life. But Madge is drunk. More drunk than I've ever seen her. Maybe more than I've ever seen anyone.

"Peeta, I . . . I need to get Madge home." Katniss tells me sympathetically, holding up a swaying Madge. Is that disappointment in her eyes, did she like the kiss?

"Can I," I begin, but quickly change my demeanor.

"I'll walk you guys home."

"Oh. No Peeta, you don't have to do that." Katniss tells me, and I think I see a flash of discontent flash before her eyes. Or maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part.

"I . . . I want to. Madge's house is on the way to my house anyway so, I’d be going that way anyhow. Go ahead and get Madge outside; the cold air will help her sober up and I'll fetch our jackets." I tell her, remembering the exact jacket she had on when she entered the building. She hesitates for a split second and looks at Madge, then back at me. Plus, the walk to Madge's house will give me time to think of an excuse to walk her home.

"Okay." She acquiesces. With Madge's arm across her shoulder, the girls make their way through the crowd and toward the front door. I go to the table filled with the heap of everyone’s jackets and fish through it until I find the one I remember seeing on Katniss. Madge's jacket is lying underneath Katniss’, and I find mine at the very bottom. With the jackets draped securely over my arm, I begin to make my way to the door, giddy to spend this next portion of the night with Katniss when someone bumps into me.

“Where you goin’ little bro?” Rye sports a cheeky grin, and his eyes are glassy; a tell-tale sign that he is plastered.

“Madge is drunk so Katniss is walking her home, so, I thought, um . . .”

He hits me hard on the back sporting another toothy goofy grin. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about! It’s about damn time.”

“Shut up Rye. I’m just making sure they get home alright. It’s dark out. Will you tell mother—”

“I’ve got you covered; don’t you worry your pretty little face about mother.” Rye reassures me. I may be the brunt of Rye’s jokes the majority of the time, and he might be a grade A asshole, but he has always had my back when it comes to our mother.

Racing out the door, I find Katniss and Madge waiting just outside the door. I hand them their jackets and by the time Katniss and I have zipped our jackets up, Madge is still trying to figure out which arm goes into which hole. I snatch her jacket from her hands and help her get it on. Madge skips merrily ahead of us while Katniss and I lag behind. I’m kind of thankful for this, but at the same time I’m worried that Madge is sloshing all the contents in her stomach around, which very well may result in an eruption of sorts.

“Is she always this . . . energetic when she’s drunk?” I ask Katniss, trying to make conversation with her.

“When she’s _drunk?_ Madge is like this when she’s sober. The alcohol just seems to intensify her energy.”

“I noticed she was with Gale, are they a . . . I don’t know, a couple?”

“Madge said they were just “having fun,” she tells me, using finger air quotes, “but from the starry way they were gawking at each other earlier tonight, I think they’re both full of crap.”

“Oh. You seem so nonchalant about it, is it not, I don’t know, weird for you?”

“Why would it be weird?” Katniss says, turning to meet my eyes with a frown on her face.

“Isn’t he your um, ex?”

Katniss burst into a fit of giggles, a sound I don’t think I’ve ever heard erupt from her, but it’s the most beautiful sound I think I may have ever heard. “Oh god no! Me and Gale! You’ve . . . that’s just crazy! No, Gale and I have only ever been friends. Only ever _WILL_ be friends.” I was pretty certain that was the case, but I just needed to hear it from her lips.

Katniss and I have are so lost in conversation that we didn’t realize that Madge has stopped skipping. She is standing still, swaying under the moonlight. Katniss runs over to her friend to steady her. “Madge, are you okay?”

“I think . . . I’m gonna—” Madge runs over to a tree, and just as I suspected, empties the contents in her stomach.

I walk over to the girls and hand Madge the bottle of water that I had stuck in my jacket pocket before I took it off. “You want some water? Just a heads up, I did take a few sips from it earlier, but it’s better than—”

Madge snatches the bottle from my hands before I finish my sentence, her desire to rehydrate overpowering any distaste for sharing germs. She nearly chugs the entire thing before she comes up for air. “Thank you Peeta, you are such a gentled – man.” 

“Of course, Madge. I’m just glad I still had it in my jacket.” I give her a smile, trying to hold back a laugh. Obviously, she’s still drunk.

Once we reach the giant white house at the edge of town, the three of us walk to the door. Madge twists the handle only to find it locked. “Crap, I forgot my key.” She complains, knocking on the door.

When we hear footsteps that could only belong to Mayor Undersee, Madge hides behind Katniss.

Mr. Undersee opens the door and gives us a smile. Madge slowly creeps out of hiding, poking her head over Katniss’ shoulder. "Hey Katniss, you guys are—” Mr. Undersee begins, but then sees the state Madge is in. "—early." He finishes, his smile turning upside down.

"Hi daddy! The party was laaame!" Madge croons, slightly wobbling as she attempts to appear sober.

"Thank you for making sure she got home Katniss. How are you Peeta, I haven't seen you in a while." Mr. Undersee says, nodding in my direction.

"I know, I'm sorry. Bakery has been rather busy lately."

"With the holiday's around the corner, I would imagine so. You're walking Katniss home as well, yes?" It’s not really a question, and I want to wrap my arms around Mr. Undersee’s neck and give him a big fat kiss on the cheek.

Smiling from ear to ear I give him a nod. "Yes sir."

"Oh, Peeta, you don't have to do that. I'll be fine and it's not that—"

"Nonsense, it isn't safe for a young lady to be walking alone so late at night."

Katniss meets my eyes apologetically. "I'm sor—"

"I want to." I tell her, almost too eagerly.

"You guys be careful and thank you again for seeing Margaret home." Mr. Undersee says, and by the tone in his voice I imagine he is not particularly happy with _Margaret_.

Katniss and I leave, making our way towards the seam. "I'm sorry, really it's fine, you don't—” Katniss begins, and I stop walking. She notices and turns to look at me. "Are you okay?" I reach for her hand and pull her closer to me, our faces just a breadth apart.

Picking up where we left off, I tilt her chin up and place a light kiss to her lips; pausing for a moment to give her time to either run away, push me away, or—

She surprises me by deepening the kiss.

When she finally pulls back she reaches for my hand, acting as if nothing ever happened.

We walk hand in hand for what feels like an eternity before she comes to a stop.

"Well, this is me." She says, glancing to her front door. I am not ready for the night to end, for this moment with Katniss to be over. What if she wakes up and regrets kissing me, what if she—

"I had a really good time tonight Katniss, I mean, with you. Do you want to maybe . . . um . . . would you want to hang out sometime tomorrow?" I ask her, taking a chance and hoping I don't repulse her.

Her face lights up with a genuine smile. "Sure. I . . . I would like that Peeta.”

“Really?”

"Yes. And I did too; have a good time, I mean. What did you have in mind?"

“Huh?”

“For tomorrow, what did you want to do?”

I am frozen for a moment and not because of the weather, but stumped by her question. What is there to do in Twelve in the middle of winter? "Um, we could uh, go for a walk? I could um, I could come by when I get off work, I mean, after the bakery closes."

* * *

**| Katniss |**

"Okay, it’s a date. I mean, no, I didn’t—” I stumble over my words, surely making a fool of myself. My heart is pounding so hard inside my chest, I’m surprised Peeta can’t hear it.

“I know what you meant, Katniss. I would like it to be, if you will allow it.”

_‘Will you allow it?’_ An image comes rushing back of my fantasy/dream and I quickly shake my head from side to side to get rid of it.

“What’s wrong? You’re not having second thoughts, are you? You don’t regret it, do you?”

“Regret what?” I am taken aback by this sudden change in him.

“Me. Us. Kissing me, I mean.”

“No, Peeta, I don’t regret it at all.” I reach for his hand and give it a squeeze to reassure him. I look over to the window and see the dim light of a lantern burning in the main room, most likely my mother waiting up for me.

“I better get inside; mother is probably waiting up.”

He gives me that twisted, half grin that makes my stomach flop around. “What?”

“It’s nothing.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking at his shoes.

“Tell me.” I beg him.

“It’s stupid really. I just; I heard you call your mom “mother” and well, that’s what I call mine.”

“A “mother” is a title bestowed upon a person for giving birth to offspring; a “mom” is someone loving, someone who nurtures you. When my mother earns the title, I will switch it up. Not a moment before.”

“I completely agree, hence the “mother,” but I will let you go inside so you can get some sleep. The sooner I get home and into bed, the sooner I get to see your beautiful face tomorrow.” Peeta tells me, leaning up and placing a kiss to my cheek. 

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He asks with narrowed eyes.

“Call me beautiful. I’m not.”

“Oh Katniss. If you only knew.” The way he is looking at me certainly makes me feel beautiful. “Goodnight Katniss, until tomorrow.” I open the door to make my way inside, spin on my heels and use my back to close the door. My eyes are shut and I'm certain the grin on my face is close to breaking my face open. Butterflies fill my stomach as I place my hands over my heart and then a giggle erupts from my mouth. A giggle. I don't giggle.

"Did you have a good time?" Mother's voice breaks me from my moment, the butterflies replaced with hundred-pound weights. My smile turns into a frown when I see mother sitting in the rocking chair by the fire, her crocheting needle in her hand.

"Oh, uh, yeah." I tell her, consumed with embarrassment, realizing she just witnessed my giddy schoolgirl display after saying goodbye to Peeta.

"Was that Gale outside? I thought I heard a man's voice."

"Gale, what no!" I exclaim. Gale would never, could _never_ be the reason for me feeling like I'm floating on clouds. "It was um, Peeta. Peeta Mellark."

Mother smiles with an approving nod. "I knew his father. He was a good man. And I've always liked Peeta." She tells me. ‘ _What does she know of Peeta Mellark?’_ I think to myself.

"Well, I uh, I'm going to bed, it's late." I tell mother and bolt from the room as fast as I can.

I remove Madge's dress and replace it with my sleep clothes, but not before folding it neatly and placing it on my dresser. I will take it, along with her jacket to her tomorrow; and check on her of course. I'm not sure if she'll be much for company, but oh well. I need my father’s hunting jacket back in my possession.

When I climb into the bed I share with Prim, I snuggle my body up to hers, soaking up her body heat. She trembles from the cold and is bolt upright in bed in a matter of seconds.

"OH MY GOD KATNISS, YOU ARE FREEZING!"

"I'm sorry." I tell her, trying to hide the grin from my face. The light from the moon gives me away, and her face lights up almost immediately.

"Did you have fun?" She asks, pulling the covers over our heads.

Other than Madge, Prim is my best friend. Except I would say that Prim comes first. We tell each other everything. There have never been secrets between us, so, I don't suppose I should begin now. Unable to conceal my ear-splitting grin, I give her a nod.

"Did you dance with a boy?"

Again, I nod.

"Was it Peeta?" I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands, nodding again. She is one of the few people who have been privy to my crush on Peeta. She knows if I _did_ dance with a boy, it could only be one specific boy.

"OH MY GOSH, KATNIIISSS!" She nearly squeals in delight.

"Are you going to see him again?" Trying to straighten my face, I give her another nod.

"He’s going to come by tomorrow. After his shift at the bakery. Now stop it little duck, we need to go to sleep." I tell her, pulling her close.

It takes me a while, but finally I fall asleep. The beautiful face of Peeta Mellark consuming my every thought that night.


End file.
